Monday, February 2   >>

THIS IS NOT ABOUT THE SUPER BOWL

But it really is.

Last year, you might remember that I spent a great deal of time during the Super Bowl reading my uncle's copy of Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time. Not much changed this year except for the fact I was tweezing my eyebrows.

Yeah, I just said that. Unibrowage. That's how boring the first half was. Until The Boss came on, obviously. Some song followed by Born To Run followed by some other song followed by Glory Days? Shit, man, everyone who made fun of my wallet --

...can now shut up and suck it.

Festivities weren't festive this year because our household likes to be sensitive to the state of the economy. You know, like celebrities who pretend to care by wearing $15,000 white dresses and $2 million jewelry to not draw attention to their wealth while in the public eye. Remember the Oscars before the lead up to the Iraq war? "No red carpet plz, k thnx..." LOL!!!

I hate to be such a Bob Bummer, but, man, holy fuck, the Super Bowl has jumped about a billion sharks this year. First there was that Faith Hill opening, then more Faith Hill, then some humanity award for an already (and PLENTY) decorated football athlete, then the overexcitement of Americans, more than half who don't really ever follow an entire season yet still feel the need to voice their unfounded opinions, and, god, don't even get me started on this commercial:

Oh, really, little 8-year-old fart? Wow, tough guy you're gonna be someday! Yeah, fucking rock that Queen shit! I bet your dad plays the Greatest Hits album all the time while he's waxing the van! And, yeah, little girl, fuckin' GET GNARLY. GET INTO IT. UNGH. SING IT. Same goes to you, MOM. Yeah, you're ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL about the "Cards" because of "Kurt Warner, baby! Woo!"

Girl sports fans really irritate the shit out of me. Their overcompensation makes Jessica Alba's referring to Wikipedia as a source seem redeeming.